"I know that Denzil went to see you, my dear little girl. He has told me about it. And I know that you love each other. There is only one chance for us in the future--and that lies with the child. It may be that when it comes to you it may fill your life and satisfy you. This is my prayer--otherwise we must see what can be arranged about things; because I cannot allow you to be unhappy. You were an innocent factor in all this, and it would be unjust that you should be hurt." How good and generous John had always been. And his letter to his lawyers! To make things smooth for her--and for Denzil--how marvellously kind! Her mourning for John was real and deep, as it would have been for a brother. But during the month of intense anxiety about Denzil everything else was numbed, even her interest in her son. By the end of August he was out of danger, although little hope was entertained that he would ever walk easily. But this was a minor thing--and gradually it began to be some consolation to the two women who loved him to know that he was safely wounded and would probably not be fit for active service again for a very long time. They wrote letters to one another, but they decided not to meet. Six months must elapse at least, they both felt--even in spite of John's commands. Another shell must have fallen not far off, for his body was never found--only his field glasses, broken and battered. And there would have been no actual information about his death had not Denzil seen him die. * * * * * Harietta Boleski and Stanislass and Ferdinand Ardayre had remained in Paris, with visits to Fontainebleau. When John had been killed, Harietta had been extremely perturbed. "Now Stepan will be able to marry that odious bit of bread and butter, and he is sure to do it after the year!" This thought rankled with her and embittered everything. Nothing pleased her. She grew more than ever rebellious at the dullness she had to live in. War was an imposition which ought not to be tolerated and she often told Hans so. At last she grew to take quite an interest in her spying for lack of more agreeable things to do. And so the months went by and November came, and a madness of jealousy was gradually augmenting in Harietta for Amaryllis Ardayre. Verisschenzko had gone to Russia in September, and she was convinced that he loved Amaryllis and that the child was his child. She could not conceive of a spiritual devotion, and something had altered all Stepan's ways. From the moment he returned to Paris until he had left she had tried and been unable to invoke any response in him, and she had felt like a foiled tigress when another has eaten her prey.